Anger EmmaJean
by WhitePhoenixes' old account
Summary: No one needed to know...'


Anger : Emma/Jean

TITLE: Anger

AUTHOR: KittyLillyLove aka Katherine aka AntheaMS

FANDOM: X-Men

PAIRING: Emma/Jean

GENRE: Slash

TABLE: Table 8

PROMPT: 01. Anger

RATING: PG-13

WORD COUNT: 1381

SUMMARY: This can be as brief or detailed as you like, but please put one.

WARNINGS: contains spoilers for New X-Men #139-141

NOTES: Dedicated to Lillian.

DISCLAIMER: I am not anyone from Marvel, and as such, these characters aren't mine. I'm just messing around with them.

They had often found themselves angry. Honestly, Jean had never figured what made Emma so angry, but she could honestly say that she often got angry whenever Emma flirted with her husband. Jean just could not understand what Emma Frost saw in Scott Summers. She didn't know that Emma had often wondered the same thing. Despite it all, they had shared a tentative friendship, brought on after Esme's attack.

Another thing Jean had noticed was that Emma's thoughts were often different from her behaviour. Some times, they were full of anger, at what, she often could not discern. But there were times where Jean got the chance to see the softer side of Emma, the side no one else except her got to see.

Perhaps it was because of her tearing through Emma's mind that the link they shared was formed. Perhaps it was entirely another coincidence. Whatever it was, it made Jean feel extraordinarily close to the resident 'Frost Queen'. Jean did not know how that connection formed, or why Emma had not shut her out of her mind yet. Maybe the woman's subconscious had wanted the connection, maybe Emma herself wanted to keep that connection open. There were so many explanations Jean could think off, yet she would never find out which one was true, because on that day, they fought again.

"I told you, Jean, stop trooping around my mind!"

"Then stop flirting with my husband." She had shot back, glaring at the defiant woman opposite her.

"I'll do whatever I please," Emma had replied snottily, with a tinge of anger in her voice.

"Well, fine! If that is what you want. Just don't blame me if I lose control and set the Phoenix on you."

"Why do you always have to threaten me with those words? Don't you get tired of saying them?" Emma snapped, crossing her arms.

"The Phoenix is not something to be trifled with!" Jean snapped back, equally angry.

"Well, control it!"

"It is rather hard to do that when someone aggravates you every chance she has."

"Oh, are we talking about me now?" Emma replied coolly.

"Yes, you. What is your problem anyway? I've told you time and again to stop flirting with Scott. He's mine, not yours. And besides, he doesn't even love you."

"That's a low blow, Jean." Emma sneered, "I never thought you would resort to that."

"Resort to what?" she replied impatiently, "I'm not the one who sleeps around whenever she has the chance."

"At least I am not the one who has a husband who is scared shitless of his wife." Came the angry reply from Emma as the woman strode out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

_And I'm not the one who crawls into her husband's mistress's bed every night_, Emma added as a parting shot as she strode down the corridor, brushing past a concerned Hank.

Trembling with fury and just a tad of nervousness, Jean sank into the sofa seat, a hand searching blindly for a bottle of wine. When she finally found it, she used her telekinetic powers to open the bottle, taking a long gulp of the bitter liquid. She had thought that their relationship had progressed a little. They had not tried to kill each other for any period of time, and if she were to be honest, Jean would even confess to liking Emma.

The red haired telepath closed her eyes, leaning back against the sofa. Soon, she was lulled into a deep sleep, her worries caused by Emma forgotten.

When she woke up, just in time for dinner she might add, her first reaction was to search for Emma. To her extreme surprise and worry, she realised that the former White Queen was not in her room. A quick mental scan of the grounds told her that the telepath was not even in the Xavier institute. Her worry more prominent now, she rushed to Hank's office, finally obtaining the truth from him.

"I'm sorry, Jean. She's gone."

"What do you mean gone?" she asked tiredly, leaning against the door frame. What trouble has Emma gotten herself into now?

"She packed everything and left," Hank said sympathetically, laying a hand on Jean's shoulder.

"Why?" Jean finally managed to get out, worry and anger rushing through her body.

"She said something about an argument. You won't know who it is with, won't you?" Hank asked curiously, trying to mask the other part of Emma's departure from Jean. Unfortunately for him, Jean picked up on that almost immediately.

"Tell me the truth, Hank," she said softly, trying to contain the anger that had flared in her when she realised that Hank was withholding a part of the truth from her.

Hank's tentative step back told her that she had not been successful in doing so. "She had a rousing argument with Scott about something; I'm not too sure what it was exactly. But it had been bad enough for Emma to leave with everything in a huff. She should be well on her way to Massachusetts by now." Hank paused, sensing that Jean was almost overcome with worry. "I'm sorry," he said softly, patting Jean on the arm before he left the medical bay.

To say Jean was worried sick would be an understatement. The red-haired telepath rushed through the corridors of the school, the expression on the woman's face was enough to deter even Scott from asking if she was all right. She was on a mission of sorts, and nothing would stop her.

That was, until she realised that she had forgotten all about her car keys. With a soft curse, she ran back into her rooms, grabbing her keys off the table, before hurriedly making her way back into the garage.

As she pulled away from the mansion, she was unaware of the gaping faces of both her colleagues and students alike. She had a mission, and nothing was about to stop her.

Finding Emma's house was easy. After all, it took her close to no effort at all to stop and ask a police man of its whereabouts. Finding the owner, however, was no small feat. Jean had been all too ready to give up. She had rushed all the way to Massachusetts, only to find out that Emma Frost was apparently not home. Until she heard the muffled sobbing coming from what seemed to be another part of the former White Queen's estate. Curious, Jean made her way to the source of the sobs, stiffening in surprise when she realised that it was the woman that she had been chasing after.

"Emma?" she asked softly, bending down so that she was at the other woman's level.

The sobs stopped abruptly, and Jean had to stifle a laugh when she saw that Emma was trying to hide all traces of her emotional outburst.

"What do you want, Jean?"

"I…" suddenly, the words could not come, and it took Jean all her strength to turn and face Emma. "I'm sorry for what I said before."

Emma sighed, her irritation apparent. "I'm sorry too, but don't think this is going to change anything."

She leaned against Jean, too tired to move.

"What did you say to Scott anyway?" Jean asked curiously.

"Nothing that you wouldn't say. So don't worry."

There was a silence, before Jean spoke again.

"You know we can't hide this for long."

"Yes, I do know."

"But for now, maybe we could." She was unsure of herself, of the situation, of everything.

"Yes, maybe we could." Emma's voice was soft, filled with a tenderness she had never used with anyone except for the woman beside her.

"We are so fucked up, aren't we, Em?" Jean whispered, looking at the woman beside her, who was characteristically fast asleep.

"I love you," she said softly, bending down to kiss the former White Queen's blonde hair.

Jean held her like that for the next few hours, before Emma woke up and they made their way back to the mansion, tired, yet uncharacteristically happy. When Scott asked her where she went, Jean just shrugged; an enigmatic smile on her face.

After all, no one has to know that Jean's anger concealed her love for a certain White Queen.

* * *

R/R please?


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